Hermione felt her knees begin to buckle under all the pressure and strain. It was absurd to think a human being can have that much affect on her. She didn't like the feeling, she loved it. It was different because she had been such a control person. Her life was controlled. Now with all these mixed feelings in such an environment she felt everything just start to fall, in a good way. He was breathtakingly beautiful to her and there were no other words that could have evaluated it better.
She started to walk towards him without thinking. Don't, she kept replaying it in her mind. Just stand there Hermione and focus on something else, she said to herself. She felt a little selfish; her being a kidnapped widow without children or her two best friends. She chose to block those things and release them from her already overcrowded mind.
A young lady from the nursery made her way over to Hermione and they started to chat for while. She was keeping a close watch for Draco's interactions. Thought she felt like a traitor for just her presence being there. She stopped staring at him for a brief moment but her eyes were drawn to him yet again when he threw his head back in laughter. She loved the way his eyes twinkled under the bright light, the way his hands easily slipped into his robes and how his grin seemed to make her heart skip a beat. There was no use in denying it. She had never felt that way about anyone before, other than Oliver. But the thought of him made her spirits diminish.
Sooner or later the war was going to catch up with them and she would probably never see him again. The whole point of coming here tonight was to approach him and…well say something. Feeling a little more enlightened she decided to make her way over to where he was standing.
But she was suddenly interrupted when the entire room dimmed. There was a low murmur as the crowds shifted. The room became very dark but very excited. It was just light enough where they could make up the outlines of each person. Hermione did not share this excitement with the others. She wanted nothing more than to run up to her room and cry her heart out. But some force held her back. Something told her to stay for just a little more. Maybe she would be updated on the how the war was progressing if she stayed, but it was more than that. She couldn't quite put a finger on it but there was a certain feeling she got.
A dark green glow began to light the room. It was just light enough to make out shadows and Hermione could here a low whisper that began to circle the room. A cold front gusted in through a huge open window on her left and her body visibly shivered. A small diamond shaped platform was drawn up by a wizard and it was centered in the room. The crowd drew back a little as if they were fearful of what was about to appear on that stage. A bright green light now spotlighted the stage and very large ugly serpent slivered around the perimeter of the stage. It hissed and slid its tongue about. The room now became unbearably cold and Hermione felt sick. She searched for Draco but she couldn't see. While Hermione searched through the crowd for Draco, she noticed that room was now a buzzing silence. The serpent had even stopped hissing. There was now something in the spotlight, but she wasn't so sure she wanted to know who or what it was. Terror was clearly written across her face as her gaze started from the floor, up to the object that stood on the stage.
The object on the stage appeared to be a man, a large tall man who was wearing a black cloak. He wasn't moving but swaying like he could hear a music no one else could. Hermione noticed he was floating above the small platform just swaying to the silence. Something clicked that this might very well be—Voldemort. She couldn't tell if the people were shocked, excited, or so terrified because she heard not a sound. All she wanted to do now was to leave but she feared it would draw to much attention and she still needed to hear the status of the war and where she could find Harry at their next battle.
Very little time passed and then a voice came from the creature floating above the platform. It was the most horrible voice she had ever heard. It sounded like a monster not of this earth. It was hoarse and deep. It sounded like a snake hissing furiously. She recognized this language as Parseltongue; Voldemort was saying the plans in Parseltongue. Of course, she screamed to herself. He's not stupid he knows there would probably be spies and such…or people like me, she said to herself.
Angry that she had even come she decided to leave very quietly. The crowd was still silent as if they were entranced as to what he was saying. She was about five feet from the door when she felt something warm wrap around her bare arm. She spun around and came face to face with a pair of gray beautiful eyes.